Cake "Fashion Nugget"

Cake

Fashion Nugget

scums stats: recent 180-gram black vinyl version...but I would happily trade something of appropriate worth for an original '96 pressing

Man, isn't it crazy what was allowed to become a hit back in the mid-Nineties? I've got the framework of an essay percolating in my head about the insanities of true, top of the chart hits from the era. It's all mind blowing. "The Distance" is such a weird song from a weird band that should have NEVER had a chance in the record business world as I understand it. So obviously, I relish in its existence. 

But it's so damn good. Freshman year of high school me bought the CD stat. And honestly, I've probably grown to the point that "The Distance" is pretty forgettable for me now. I mean, it's alright...but have you listened to "Frank Sinatra"?

Damn. For at least 12 years after this came out I would scribble teenaged sounding "poetry" or "lyrics" that was entirely cribbed from the meter and scheme of "Frank Sinatra." To this day, every time I hear it, I still smile and perk up. The muted, understated organ intro...just stellar in every way. 

Beyond that, my teenaged guitar/drums duo recorded a version of "I Will Survive" in the attic at 1203 Ferdinand back in '97 and just flipping through all these songs, they are all just so solid, timeless really...I mean, is there any other album out there that has covers of Gloria Gaynor and Willie Nelson on it? I don't think so.

Whirlwind Heat told me that they decided to record their "Types of Wood" album at Paradise Studios because that's where Cake recorded Fashion Nugget and is claimed to have the best drum sound in all of the studios in America. On top of that, Greg Brown's guitar tone and playing here just stands alone in regards to what was available and accessible to a young kid like me at the time. It sounded...like a guitar should sound. 

I've never bought any other Cake records (never even seen any of the 7"s culled from this LP...so all have just been added to my Discogs wantlist) and despite the 8xLP boxset going for A THOUSAND DOLLARS on the secondhand market, I think I'm perfectly content just spending my time with this one. Fashion Nugget has yet to bore me or do me wrong.

Calling Out To Ghosts That Are No Longer There: The White Stripes at Sloss Furnaces

    The fact that the word “penultimate” exists exclusively as an adjective for next-to-last situations

feels almost egregious. I mean, did we really need an eleven letter word to describe this

scenario when a three-word combination totaling ten letters does the job just perfectly?

    Because let’s face it…second-to-last things are kinda just whatever. All the penumbra and

history and tall tales sprout effortlessly from every last whisper about the LAST of something,

the finality, the never-again crushing darkness of an abyss of nothingness for the rest of

eternity.

    So for me to roll in and tell you just how good the White Stripes were in their penultimate live

show…I understand the urge to call bullshit. But honestly, truthfully, with all personal bias

removed from shading of opinion here…this show is phenomenal.

    Visits to an Original House of Pancakes, a record store and some antique shops all replay as

relatively ordinary for daytime activities. If anything, my memory of the day sticks out as being

oppressively hot. With afternoon highs in the 90s, temps at Sloss Furnaces - the supposedly

haunted turn-of-the-century pig iron producing blast furnace turned concert venue - would hover

into the 80s well into the Stripes performance that night. Factor in the crush of 2400 bodies

crammed into the rudimentary shed-like structure with unforgiving open air walls and my recall

of the event is overwhelmingly punctuated by the feel, smell and general annoyance of sweat.

    Add in the decrepit, rusted, tetanus-y surroundings of the rest of the campus and the knowledge

that the number of workers who died there was rumored to be in the hundreds, their falling or

being pushed into the red hot fires of the furnaces only to be instantly incinerated and the

unshakable pall that casts on a spot even some five decades after the last flames there were

extinguished…needless to say it didn’t feel like an ordinary show by any means.

    Opener Dan Sartain would play in front of the biggest hometown crowd of his career and the

highlight for me (playing drums for him on this leg) was his inquiry to the crowd “So…how many

genuine Alabama rednecks we got here tonight?” After a strong response from the crowd, Dan

replied “Well, you made my life a living hell for 26 years. Thank you.”

    Just…perfect in every way.

    The show kicks off with “Dead Leaves And The Dirty Ground” and finds Jack taking liberties (for

the better) in a song where he usually did not. The particularly gnarly first note of feedback

curves into some choice guitar syncopations. As the most-frequent set opener across the

band’s career, it feels odd that this would be the last time the Stripes ever started a show with

“Dead Leaves” as their final gig would begin with a cover “Stop Breaking Down.”

    “Icky Thump” rolls into the fray wildly. To hear the assembled crowd, without prompting,

perfectly nail the patter of twelve “la’s” sung in rapid succession at the end of the second verse,

all mere weeks after the song’s release…it is a great reminder as to how WIDE this record

reached so quickly upon deployment.

    Leading into “When I Hear My Name” Jack, particularly chatty this evening, says “Meg and I

knew we was Alabama bound!” and despite any hammy undertones, it ultimately comes off as

sincere and heartfelt. Leading out from there, “Hotel Yorba” hits as particularly vivacious, Meg’s

accompanying vocals both vivid and spot-on.

    Jack’s unusual beginning to “The Denial Twist” and the improvised divergent lyrics in the

second verse, which seem to say “It’s the way you rock and roll!” leave the Stripes’ final

performance of this song as striking.

    While the extended, elegiac intro to “Death Letter” stands strongly as a haunting slice of slide

guitar, Jack’s improvised lyrics on the third verse delight. Similar to his moves earlier in “Dead

Leaves”, taking a specific part of a song that, to my memory, was seldom if ever switched up,

and reworking it on the spot, it all feels significant. Especially in light of the fact that the song

would essentially run out of its evolutionary runway in another 24 hours. So for him to sing…

It looked like ten thousand

Women around my front porch

Didn’t know if I’d listen to ‘em

Or keep on lookin’ north

I’m just reminded of the fact that no song should ever be considered complete or finished or

beyond reinterpretation.

    Acolytes of St. Francis of Assisi may be surprised to catch Jack’s in-the-moment name drop of

Brother Sun, Sister Moon in the midst of an extended rant toward the end of “Do.” Though it

may bear repeating that “Little Bird” and its “I wanna preach to birds” lyric is explicitly inspired by

the 13th century saint, it should require no leap of faith to imagine the 1972 Franco Zeffirreli film

depicting the life and times of Francis being viewed by Jack as a prepubescent altar boy.

    Eschewing his wealthy upbringing for a life of piety and monasticism, Francis would become

patron saint of Italy, the first documented stigmatic and the creator of the first live nativity scene.

If there’s a Catholic Hall of Fame, St. Francis of Assisi is definitely a first-ballot shoe-in.

    Nuggets like Jack’s borderline goofy drunk introduction of Meg for “In The Cold, Cold Night” with

“Miss Meg White takes center stage!” belies a truly stellar performance while brief, blink-and-

you-missed-it riff inversions on both “Astro” and “Little Cream Soda” are delicious little surprises

to revel in. And I’ll be damned if the organ-driven take on “I Want To Be The Boy To Warm Your

Mother’s Heart” is a welcome reminder that every last live version of this song is worth a listen. It never

fails or disappoints. It always satisfies.

    But the juiciest plum in this set is the unexpected, abrupt abandonment of “Seven Nation Army”

a mere ninety seconds into the song. When Jack says “I don’t know if we should play this song

in America anymore…I guess it doesn’t translate well…lost something in the translation” he

says so without knowing it’d be the last time that he and Meg ever played the song together.

    I remember this happening that night, but at the time I never mentioned it or thought to bring it

up.

    But 15 years later I had to.

    So in an email with the subject line “dumb white stripes question” I reached out to Jack for

clarity on the situation. His response…

oh i think i was just joking because it had become such a soccer chant at the time and that

europeans loved it “more” than americans for a minute there

and they weren’t singing any english lyrics just saying “po po po po” in Italy, so i was joking that

americans didn’t understand the “foreign language” of “po po po po po po po"

    That reads nicely.

    But I cannot help being reminded that in 2007 George W. Bush was still in office and folks were

still wildly pissed about his mere existence AND the ongoing overseas US military boondoggles.

That year would see a total of 904 American armed forces casualties in Iraq alone, the single

highest yearly total in the entirety of said occupation.

    So in Alabama, I dunno…a bunch of self-identifying, sweat-soaked rednecks chanting along…it

had just the faintest twinge of jingoistic misappropriation originating from the crowd…that basso

ostinato chopping along with the sinister Dorian mode overtone. It sounds ominous. “Army” is in

the title. I mean, it’s not a stretch.

    At the time I remember just having half the half-second thought along these confused political

lines and then literally have not thought about it since. The only contemporaneous review I can

find of the show, written by Andy Smith, attributes the scuttled “Seven Nation Army” as an effort

to prevent “the righteous and violent rigor of the lyrics (to) be misinterpreted as condoning an

unrighteous war.”

    So even if we do take Jack at his word here (which I think we should), what he says his intention

was, it’s worth noting that the perceived notion in the air that night, at least to some, was of an

entirely different tone. These are the shortcomings of interpretation. They will never rectify

themselves.

    So for Jack to switch the opening “Ball and Biscuit” lyrics to be…

Yes I am the Third Man, woman

But I am also the seventh son

…to me it reads as almost stentorian “LET ME SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU”-level of painting a

picture just perfectly clear in light of the supposed confusion or misinterpretation of anything

earlier in the set. With gusto.

    Yet the impromptu lyrics on “300 MPH Torrential Outpour Blues” are deadly…

There’s all kinds of emotions that a phone call ain’t gonna fix

You took me to the brink woman, took me everywhere I didn’t want to go but I went anyway

I never want you to question where I was headed, yes that’s where my head is nowadays

The complexity and grasp of human condition displayed in an off-the-top-of-the-head

exclamation, deftly cramming all those syllables into precise meter and landing on the rhyming

couplet, all while giving off the impression that the severity and pathos contained therein surely

must’ve been labored over intensely for hours, days, weeks even…well, isn’t that just the way to

knock us all over?

    Ending with “Boll Weevil” just a short trip up I-65 from the actual boll weevil monument in

Enterprise, Alabama, and some on-mic praise of Sartain is a perfect way to put that specific,

local, “we know exactly where we are” stamp on the entire evening. When Jack implores the

crowd to not go looking for any ghosts on the property after the show, you have half a mind to

respect those wishes.

    We in the touring party would not respect those wishes. After the show, a bunch of us (including

Meg, but not Jack) climbed the stairs, single-file, to a precarious perch overlooking the vast,

murky stretches of the complex. From above the entirely insufficient artificial light dappled the

tiniest spots and failed to make a dent in the existentially overpowering void.

    Even more dread-inducing was the spectre of a pitch-black decommissioned railroad tunnel.

From entry to exit, the path we were led to couldn’t have been more than 200 yards at most. But

I do not exaggerate when I say there was a complete absence of any outside illumination in this

stretch. Pure, unadulterated emptiness. Cannot see your own hand in front of your face insanity.

The shit that so many horror film plots are predicated on and has kept the night light business

booming since the passing of the torch from candle to light bulb.

    We got our hands on a single, meager flashlight, yet between the 8 of us (or so) that were on

the endeavor…it felt wildly inadequate to the point of palpable, impending fear.

    But there’s a funny little thing that happened within this little group of friends upon venturing into

the ghastly, haunted space. We were all still buzzy from the after effects of such a stunning live

concert in such unconventional environs. Simply put…we laughed our fucking asses off.

Hysterically. The entire time. What took us maybe five minutes to traverse passed in seemingly

five seconds. No one seemed like they could even be bothered with being scared. In the face of

the uncertain, of the overwhelming chasm…one light and each other was all we needed to lead

the way. To illuminate. To get us to the desired destination.

    In the end, we’re just calling out to ghosts, listening closely for any sign of a response.

Willie Nelson "No Place For Me" b/w "Lumberjack"

 

No Place For Me b/w Lumberjack

scum stats: estimated 300 copies pressed, supposedly 3-5 known in collections

Gotta say I was pretty wowed to find out that Willie Nelson's first record came out of Vancouver, Washington. Not Texas? Not Nashville? I'd known that Loretta Lynn's career had started in the Pacific Northwest, but I thought that was an anomaly, not something that had any parallels.

Kinda goes without saying that this single is hard to find. Rumor has it that the disc wasn't even available for purchase back when it was made in 1957. Supposedly people had to write in to the radio station KVAN where Willie was a DJ at the time (Vancouver which is right across the river from Portland, Oregon) and say how much they loved the record and then a copy would be mailed to them.

Damn...doesn't that just sound crazy thinking about? It certainly doesn't happen like that any more.

The a-side "No Place For Me" feels like a pretty solid, of-the-era country tune, Willie's voice rich and sonorous and strengthened by reverb, buoyed by picky guitar and with some fiddle buried deep in the mix. Before you know it, the damn thing is over in less time than it takes for me to microwave popcorn. That feels a little bit strange, could be good or bad depending on your mood or the day I suppose.

The flip is written by another DJ at KVAN at the time, Leon Payne, supposedly written about a local timber faller named Ray Norris. The stop-and-go, gas-and-brakes chug of this song feels pretty remarkable and noteworthy. The verse vocals presented largely without any accompaniment, the heavy-breathing intro and outro...just feels like there's something beyond the "old hat" vibe that most independent, Starday-pressend country singles from this time. Almost bordering on spoken jazz, Ken Nordine vibes. Heady stuff for '57, at least for me looking back 65 years later.

While it might be absolutely NO indication of what Willie would do come the rest of his career, man, first records with tales like this behind them just get me excited. Good times and good vibes.

The Last Thoughts Of My Thirties

minivan window 

already down

Detroit wind whipping

my hair against

my face

the cool

interstate seventy-five air

chills my cheeks

sunburned by baseball

just a reminder

that I am alive

Lord,

I just can’t keep from 

smiling

sometimes

Cybotron "Alleys Of Your Mind"

 Cybotron

"Alleys Of Your Mind" b/w "Cosmic Raindance"

scum stats: at least three pressings...red/white labels with black printing, red labels with black printing, white labels with black printing. Anecdotally red/white labels are likely the first pressing, as those seem to turn up the least frequently. I'd venture the red label is the follow-up pressing and the white labels seem to relatively ABOUND in quantity. At one point 30 years after the fact Juan Atkins claimed that the white label was a bootleg, but I think that's the fog of the decades. Original pressings plated and pressed at QCA in Cincinnati, pretty sure that white label ran at Archer a few months later.)

The beginning of Detroit techno. Never mind that it's a wholesale lift of the hook from Ultravox's "Mr. X", all you need to know is that this is the shit.

Something shifted on my cell phone in the past week where the first thing to play when I plug into the car is no longer Mike Birbiglia's "Abby" but instead, Cybotron's "Alleys Of Your Mind."

This. Makes. My. Day. Every. Day.

I first heard this song on an "Old School Sunday" Detroit radio show...seemingly each one of the R&B stations in town sets up at a local spot with a club (read: not radio) DJ spinning live. None of the tracks get announced or even identified. 

Anyway, I was driving on Vernor headed west bound at the Gratiot intersection and this one drops. Sounding like nothing I'd ever heard before. Sounding like a BAND, a vibe I'd never thought I could gather from a techno record.

And...nothing. No idea what the song was or how to even try to find it.

A day or two later a call to dear band mate Mick Collins had the question answered in about ten seconds. Imagine my delight in finding out it was a DETROIT record.

In a few weeks one of those white label copies would be procured from People's Records. To later discern the story that Atkins and band mate Rick Davis self-released the record, essentially selling it out of the trunks of their cars and moving roundabout 25k copies in that manner.

As Atkins debut release, it's INSANE that the first lyrics he ever unleashed into the world (at a mere 19 years old!) are "Who'll cry for modern man?" I think about this line ALL THE DAMN TIME it's soo stupid good. 

To hear Mick talk about how it hit in Detroit...everyone heard it...and everyone freaked the fuck out. To the point where EVERYONE was bumping this song and loving the hell out of it.

Oh to have been around Detroit in 1981.

I've not stopped loving this record since. The Dirtbombs covered it on our Party Store LP back in 2011 and it's one of my happier full circles having made that happen. 

I've made a habit of grabbing any copy of this record I ever run into. So I've got some extras floating around here. They are all usually HAMMERED...a sign that a disc was a TRUE party record, getting played all the time, not kept in a sleeve, folks dancing so hard they bump into the turntable. Every copy of this disc has lived a full life no doubt. And that, more than anything, is the sign of the most important kind of records.

More Trivia Questions

1.Richard Edson, Jim Sclavunos, Bob Bert, Steve Shelley. All were drummers in Sonic Youth. Match their name with the appropriate description

 

Who had a role in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”?

Whose dad won the Heisman Trophy?

Who was in a band called the Crucifucks?

Who plays drums on a Nick Cave and Kylie Minogue duet?

 

2. Spell Fela Kuti. Bonus points if you can spell Anikulapo

 

3. Which one of these people is NOT thanked in the liner notes to Nirvana’s In Utero?

Quentin Tarantino, Bobcat Goldthwaite, Pat Smear, James Osterberg. 

 

4. Produced by Kanye West, “Izzo” by Jay-Z features a sample of which classic Jackson 5 song?

 

5. Which sold more copies in week of release, Use Your Illusion I or Use Your Illusion II? Bonus points, what was the differential between the two within 10 percent?

 

6. Charlie Haden played bass on Ornette Coleman’s “Shape of Jazz to Come”. Two of his triplet daughters were members of which mid-Nineties Los Angeles band signed to DGC records? 

 

7. Animal Collective’s breakout album is titled “Merriweather Post Pavilion” after a well-loved concert venue. Which state is Merriweather Post Pavilion located? Bonus points…what city is Merriweather Post Pavilion located?

 

8. What was released first, Radiohead’s Pablo Honey or Smashing Pumpkin’s Siamese Dream?

Bonus points, name the exact date either of them were released:

 

9. “I’m eating mangoes in Trinidad with attorneys” is a lyric from which 1997 hit that samples both Audio Two’s “Top Billin” and the Bee Gee’s?

 

10. Originally recorded by Solomon Linda in South Africa in 1939 and released under the name “Mbube” which song seems to be resurrected every ten years or so in some movie or television commercial seeming kinda like some bullshit, but, you know, whatever, it’s cool, I guess. Pete Seeger with the Weavers and the Tokens are usually the versions you hear, but Ladysmith Black Mombazo, REM and a duet with Seth Rogen and Billy Eichner are also versions out there.

 

 

 

11. Which was released first…Nirvana’s “Nevermind” or Pearl Jam’s “Ten”? Bonus points, name the exact date either/both of them were released.

 

12. The video game Journey Escape features which rock and roll band?

 

13. The title track on Spiritualized’s 1997 album “Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space” is the only song on the album NOT entirely written by band leader Jason Pierce. A hit for both Elvis Presley and UB40, what song, originally edited out of the initial release of “Ladies…” was incorporated into this first song on the album?

 

14. Within 5, what is the BPM of Outkast’s “Bombs Over Bagdad”?

 

15. In the chorus of her song “Nude as the News” Cat Power mentions Jackson and Jesse, the names of the children of which of her musical idols?

 

16. What is the name of the Harlem Globetrotters theme song?

 

17. What is Stevie Wonder’s birth name?

 

18. The Black and Brown Trading Stamp Corporation was founded in Oakland, California in 1969, inspired by traditional “green stamp” booklets but instead focused on driving business to black-owned establishments in California. Who was the soul and funk singer who was depicted on the Black and Brown stamps, in addition to being the person who put up the money to start the company?

 

19. What year did the Fisk Jubilee Singers form?

 

20. According to “7 Rings” what are some of Ariana Grande’s favorite things?

 

21. What one specific thing do the bands the Fluid, the Melvins and the Jesus Lizard all have in common? 

 

22. True or false: every member of the Strokes has released a solo album.

 

23. Buju Banton, Louis Farrakhan and Ramadan are all mentioned in which Fugees song? 

 

24. Based on the gameplay of Terminator 2: Judgement Day, Revolution X is a 1994 video game “starring” which rock and roll band? 

 

25. True or false: The chorus of Vanilla Ice’s “Ice Ice Baby” originates from the signature chant of the African American fraternity Alpha Phi Alpha? 

 

26. Europe, Alabama, Boston, America, Kansas - which one of these bands was not formed in the place where they took their name from? 

 

27. How many times has John Frusciante joined the Red Hot Chili Peppers? 

 

28. The band Toto backs Michael Jackson on which song from his Thriller album? 

 

29. Ravi Shankar has two successful musician daughters. Name them. 

 

30. In 1997 Jimbo Mathus of the Squirrel Nut Zippers released an album titled “Play Songs for Rosetta” as a means to help raise funds for his childhood nanny, Rosetta. Who was Rosetta’s father?

You Like Trivia Questions?

 Round One:

What is the b-side to Nirvana’s first single?

A copy of which album, numbered 0000001, sold for over $790,000 at Julien’s Auctions in December 2015?

In which city was Aretha Franklin born?

Whose 1979 album “Pink Cadillac” features two songs which were the last music ever produced by Sun Records founder Sam Phillips?

Who played the guitar solo on David Bowie’s song “Let’s Dance”?

Everyone knows Lou Reed, Mo Tucker, Sterling Morrison and John Cale. Name anyone else who was a member of the Velvet Underground.

Pitchfork’s review of the 2006 “Shine On” album by rated 0.0. There was no written review, instead, just a link to a 10-second YouTube clip of a monkey peeing into its own mouth. What band released “Shine On”?

An RIAA “diamond” award signifies album sales in what amount?

Only two songs from Disney animated films have reached number 1 on the Billboard hot 100 chart. Name either of them.

The band named MC5…what does “MC” stand for?

Round Two:

Jake and Jamin Orrall are best known for their group Jeff the Brotherhood. What was the name of their band before Jeff the Brotherhood?

Eric Stefani is an original member of No Doubt as well as Gwen Stefani’s older brother. Name one of two different television shows he worked on after leaving the band.

What is the name of the Hannah Montana theme song?

Sun Ra plays on a 1966 album dedicated to what crime fighting duo?

Who currently owns Hank Williams 1941 Martin Acoustic guitar?

The Who released an early single of the songs “Zoot Suit” and “I’m The Face”. What was the band name credited on that single?

The Church of John Coltrane is located in which city?

Pink Floyd derived their band moniker from the names of two different blues singers. Name either of them.

Kurt Cobain shares songwriting credit with Dino Valenti on one song. Name that song.

What song starts out with “Fuck all you hoes…get a grip motherfucker”?

Round Three:

There are two proper nouns mentioned more than once in LCD Soundsystem’s song “Losing My Edge” name them both.

What country is William Onyeabor from?

Who is the only person to have played in both Nirvana and Soundgarden?

Which one of these groups has not released a single on Sub Pop - Beach Boys, Melvins, Shonen Knife, Smashing Pumpkins, the White Stripes?

Brendan and James are brothers. Brendan played in Fugazi and James played in the Make-Up. What is their last name?

What is the name of the founding female member of Os Mutantes?

Under what name was Jandek’s first album “Ready For the House” originally credited?

Properly spell “Les Rallizes Denudes”

What country are Boards of Canada from?

Beyonce, Allison Krauss, Henry Mancini or John Williams. Who’s won the most Grammys?

My Briefest of Interactions With Mark Lanegan

I'm pretty sure I said "hi" to him backstage at the Queens of the Stone Age gig at St. Andrew's Hall on September 13th, 2002. But that's inconsequential.

August 20th, 2004 the Dirtbombs played the Pukkelpop Festival in Belgium. We took an overnight ferry from Brighton, UK where we'd performed the previous evening. We arrived on the festival grounds pretty early. I set up my drums as soon as I was allowed so I could go and check out Joanna Newsom's even-earlier-than-ours set on the other side of the grounds. Her opening with an a cappella, not even singing through a microphone version of "Yarn and Glue" in the middle of a mostly empty tent in this empty Belgian field still sits with me as one of the most unafraid performances I have ever witnessed.

Anyway, our set time was during a very un-rock and roll daylight, we're not a big draw and there's not too much of a crowd watching us. But the stage was HUGE...maybe the biggest one we'd ever play. With tons of overhead space, room for Troy to stomp around with a festival length cable...I mean, it really felt like we were probably just a little too small to be included in such an affair but we were going to our damnedest to make sure we took full advantage of our inclusion in such reindeer games.

We played hyper fast and found ourselves walking off stage with 10 minutes still left in our allotted time slot. As a total anomaly, bad form even, we say "fuck it" and go back to do an encore.  Bands our stature do not garner festival encores. According to my hand-written tour diary "...at the end of By My Side I did a headstand on my bass drum, stood on it, then started tossing shit like it was salad. I noticed Greg Dulli stage right mid-set and was trying to see how close I could get the drums to him. Troy swears the rack tom was twenty feet in the air. I threw the bass drum over my head backwards (not before a quick cursory saftey check" and snapped bits off the rim."

Looking back 18 years later and I still feel the adrenalin rush in my chest reminiscing. It felt unhinged in the best way. Throwing and destroying equipment is 100% patently dumb and played out...but it is so fucking fun and the crowd eats it up every damn time.

I am being completely honest and serious when I say that I must've thrown my bass drum at least twenty-five feet from where I was situated on the drum riser. Never before and never since would I be given an opportunity to so wonderfully transform potential energy into kinetic energy via the destruction of the tools I needed to make money.

When I finally walked off stage, I was hit with an instant wave of feeling like I needed to vomit. I had pushed myself SO hard that it only caught me the second I stopped doing it. Right at that moment, a guy walked past me and said "Good show, I grabbed one of your sticks!" to which I had to awkwardly ask for it back, as I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find the exact ones in Europe and it was still the beginning of the tour.

Soon thereafter Greg Dulli came by and said of the five times he'd seen the Dirtbombs, this had been the best. He then introduced everyone standing around and my mind was blown when it became clear that the guy who'd grabbed my stick, whom I'd assumed was just a rabid fan, was actually Mark Lanegan. He and Dulli were playing later in the day as the Twilight Singers.

We'd see Blanche and the Kills and the MC5 and Franz Ferdinand and the White Stripes the next night at the festival and my overwhelming take away from it all was that I just felt so lucky to even be there. As a fan, this was just about the most fun I could ever ask for. And the fact that, even if only for a second, it seemed like Lanegan was a fan of what I was doing, all these years later, is still humbling.

Liner Notes For "Arise, Dan Sartain, Arise!"

    

    The first time I met Dan Sartain I left my grandfather’s funeral early to make it happen. I was

wearing a suit.

    I ran to the show straight from the service, clearly not in my usual duds, but respectable and

tailored enough that I didn’t feel like I was sticking out at the suburban Detroit club on a Sunday

night.

    I’d been hipped to him by the British mag Careless Talk Costs Lives. They hyped the fact that

by the release of Dan Sartain vs. the Serpientes he had already self-released three albums.

Something about that review, the portrait it painted, just made me feel like I HAD to meet Dan.

    This guy was my age at the time (21 years old, give-or-take) and I couldn’t wrap my head

around someone so young had enough material to even fill three full-lengths, let alone the

gumption to ACTUALLY release them.

    Nevermind those self-releases were micro-editions and that it would take me YEARS to track

‘em all down, when you’re dropping a lyric as deadly as “You don’t know what it’s like to be

alone...You don’t know how it feels, to have the cobras snapping at your heels” you are clearly

wise beyond your years or distribution reach.

    Seems like the first dozen or so times I caught Dan live, he never had the same backing band.

Always hustling, always moving, don’t have the time to run tour dates past the bass player, if he

can’t do it, oh well, there’s some other dude who can figure it out and is ready to roll. Shit, that’s

how I got dragooned, happily, into drumming for him back in 2007 and again in 2008.

    To know Dan is to ALWAYS be intrigued and to never be surprised. His is a personality where

anything seems possible at any time. Like on that ‘07 tour, there was the faint possibility we

would play Dan’s local hometown Birmingham, Alabama morning television talk show. Local kid

done good, playing the big venue in town...it all made sense to me why it might happen. And

when Dan said “If it actually goes down, I think we just play ‘Where Eagles Dare.’” You know,

the Misfits’ song with a chorus of “I ain’t no goddamn son of a bitch!”

    In a vacuum, the idea seems self-defeating and ludicrous, just bad all around. Career-killing. But

to hear the thought coming directly out of Dan’s mouth...it was the most sensible, clear-headed

thing I had ever heard. It made perfect sense to me. Much in the same way he gently unfurls the

lyric here “There’s a rooster in the henhouse...with a big ole dick.” Of course the rooster in the

hen house has a big fucking dick. That’s WHY he’s in the hen house. Shit, do I have to spell it

out for you? Don’t you get it? How clear does it have to be?

    Consistently varied and predictably unpredictable...no matter WHO is backing him...the shows

are always flat out great. Because DAN is always great. Because people, like myself, are eager

to get behind him and help spread the word. He garners enthusiasm. He makes you want to do

whatever you can to help evangelize his work...his music, his lyrics, his personality...because

you feel like the world is a better place with more people knowing about him.

    Some say this record is a “return to form” and to that my simple response is...Dan has NEVER

lost his form. While stylistic dalliances have come and gone and inspirations and muses have

been chased and abandoned, the quality of his output has NEVER suffered.

To me, that is the truest form of artistry. Warhol was churning out silk-screens until his dying

breath, however bored he may have been of the experiment, because that’s what people

WANTED from him. Were he alive today they would STILL be asking him for silkscreen

portraits.

    But a musician? What a tight-rope one must walk. You can’t ignore your past, yet you can’t

wholesale regurgitate it either. How does one conjure something that is both familiar yet new

and engaging all at the same time?

    I don’t have the answer. I don’t know how to do it. But I know that’s what *I* want and suspect

that’s what most others look for in the music that grabs them, that captivates their minds, that

moves their souls, that sits with them after months, years, decades.

    All of that encapsulates how I feel about Dan Sartain and not just this album, but life entirely. In

his own unique way, Dan holds a mirror up for us to look at ourselves. You recognize a visage

from the past, with memory of how things used to appear. But the focus of attention goes to the

changes...the wrinkle, the fade, the signs of time passing. Therein lies the truth, therein lies the

message, when at its deepest, provides the listener, the viewer, life, with the most pure

meaning.

Ben Blackwell

Psychedelic Stooge

December 2020

The White Stripes at the Detroit Institute of Arts

 “That was the best thing we’ve ever done. It was also the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

 

So were the thoughts expressed by a long-forgotten big wig at the Detroit Institute of Arts. What they had “done” was bring in the White Stripes to perform two sets in the hallowed Diego Rivera Court. When booked, the White Stripes were moderately ascendent. By the time of the performance on November 2nd, 2001, they were stratospheric and lava hot. The performance, all guts and glory and emotion and resplendent joy, had pulled in THOUSANDS to the Beaux Arts-style building that day, the museum’s largest single-day attendance in over seventy years of existence. That was the best part.

 

The “worst” part was those thousands, many of whom had not set foot in the building since grade school field trips, really had no idea about the space they were occupying. Completely enveloped by 27 larger-than-life scenes conceived and executed by Diego Rivera in 1932-33, the Detroit Industry Murals stand as one of the most breathtaking and important displays of art in the city, if not beyond. As a stylized near-deification of automobile plants, communal labor, racial harmony and vaccination, the murals themselves (done as frescoes, paint applied to wet plaster) once dried, form an integral part of the wall.

 

But rock and roll fans of 2001 cared not. With the court well beyond capacity and the overflow crowd spilling deep into the adjacent Great Hall, over-eager attendees were climbing the planters in front of the massive expanses of both the north and south walls. Desperate for a better view, a clear line of sight or just caught up in the electricity of the moment, people were carelessly touching, casually rubbing and leaning against these priceless works of irreplaceable art at the heart of the literal, metaphorical and historical cultural center of Detroit. Risking the destruction of valued fresco history all just for the hope of catching a glimpse of what was, in 2001, the NOW cultural heartbeat of the city.

 

Thankfully, the only noticeable damage done on that evening was the ringing of eardrums. 

 

The White Stripes’ performance was nothing short of impeccable. The 33-song cavalcade ceremoniously kicked off with Jack White literally waving a Detroit flag, knowingly singing “Little Room” in the biggest room it had ever been performed in. The incongruity was immediately pushed further with the trilling screech of “The Big Three Killed My Baby,” as intensely critical a song as has ever been written about the industry that built Detroit. All performed in a room that, save maybe the Rouge Plant’s blast furnaces, is as close as to a temple as exists for the automobile industry. No sacred cows here. Iconoclasm exemplified. 

 

Jack and Meg fully hit their stride and power through a medley fueled by another renowned Detroit commodity...rock and roll. Their assertive take on Iggy Pop’s stomping “I’m Bored” weaved seamlessly into the Gories’ hypnotic “Omologato” and by the time they were crushing on the MC5’s atomic anthem “Looking at You” the result was maddeningly perfect, a daft tribute to the oft-overlooked local cultural fuel that helped ignite and launch the White Stripes to the perch where they could ultimately propel themselves globally.

 

Jack urged attendees to go check out some beloved home-grown Gordon Newton art before the set break then he and Meg came back all taut and attitudinal with impassioned takes on gems like  “Let’s Shake Hands” and “Fell In Love With a Girl” sitting comfortably amongst covers of Robert Johnson (“Stop Breaking Down”), Loretta Lynn (“Rated X”) and Blind Willie McTell (“Your Southern Can Is Mine”) before tying it all together succinctly with the White Stripes blasting through their bona fide set closer “Screwdriver.”

 

Knowing full well the gravity and importance of the 50th installment of Third Man Records’ Vault subscription series, here in its entirety is the White Stripes legendary night at the Detroit Institute of Arts. With striking soundboard audio that wonderfully captures the energy radiating off the band that evening while subtly balancing the cavernous BOOM of tube amplifiers in a room with only bodies to deaden the sound, the two LPs here are lovingly pressed on red and white vinyl. All sounds were painstakingly mastered, cut, and pressed at the Third Man Cass Corridor premises, less than a mile down the road from the marble fortress of the DIA.

 

Utilizing said audio as its bedrock, the package also features a pro-shot DVD of the complete White Stripes performance, sourced directly from the previously untapped video archives of the Detroit Institute of Arts. Vibrant and captivating, the footage manages to bring the viewer into the room, transported to the time and place where such magnetism unfurled.

 

The artwork here utilizes a cache of previously unseen images shot that day by noted Detroit photographer Steve Shaw. Capturing the band at delightfully opposing tableaus...the strikingly empty soundcheck where skylights find the sun dappled mise en scene of Rivera’s murals as a humbling backdrop to the hauntingly dark and imposing mid-set overhead spotlit vignette of Jack and Meg....the imagery here is among the best we have ever had the luxury of using for such an important moment in the White Stripes’ history. Gracing both the LP and DVD covers, the choicest Shaw images are reproduced here in a collection of four stunning photographic prints.

 

The White Stripes' at the Detroit Institute of Arts was an exercise in inherent juxtapositions. The best and the worst. High art and low art. Big rooms and little rooms. Past and present. Respect and irreverence. Hyper-local and widely global. Emptiness and overcrowding. Darkness and light. The White Stripes embody and attack all of these. A mess of contradictions laid bare for all to see and listen and love.

Kelley Stoltz "Antique Glow"

 Kelley Stoltz

"Antique Glow" 20th anniversary expanded edition

scum stats: 300 UK indie exclusive, 700 US indie exclusive, a whole mess of 'em on black and maybe some super top-secret single digit kinda things still to be revealed to you real heads

The number of albums I love more than "Antique Glow" could be counted on two hands.

Cut to February 2003. I'm still in college, loving journalism classes but bummed that I need to take French, in the beginning steps of starting my own record label and also balancing time in the Dirtbombs.

We're scheduled for a quick West Coast trip centered around a headlining spot at Noise Pop Festival in San Francisco. I made my way into Amoeba in the Haight and happily felt like I was at home. Back at that time, I knew enough people who worked there that someone I was friends with was bound to be on the floor whenever I walked in. It was a nice feeling then...I don't think it's true anymore.

I cannot remember if it was Detroit ex-pat Michael Cooper or SF stalwart Brock Galland who made the suggestion, but it was definitely one or the other who thrust a copy of "Antique Glow" into my hands.

My first impression was...I didn't like the name Kelley Stoltz. Probably to do with my dislike of Eric Stoltz and thinking that Kelley with an "E" seemed pretentious. I was NOT pulled in immediately. But after I was told that ever album cover was hand-painted by Kelley, that he self-released it himself AND that he was originally from the Metro Detroit area...I thought the $12 investment was worth the risk.

Took a minute upon arriving back home for me to throw the record on the turntable, but as SOON as I did, it was instantaneous amazement. The opening lick of "Perpetual Night", just close enough to "Here Comes The Sun" without invoking lawsuits, is the perfect enticement to keep listening. The WARMTH of it all, enveloping like a cozy old blanket, I mean, that's the GLOW we're talking about in the title, right? The lyrics lazily introduce themselves, delayed effects sputter from left to right channel like a shooting star across the night sky, it all feels like it's just going to fall apart and then at 1:52 the drums spring into step and it all locks in and just...makes sense.

The album is just full of moment after pleasing moment like the one's described. Every song, every change, every note...just a damned cornucopia of brilliance. An embarrassment of beautiful music all squeezed onto one album. Like...it feels like it's not even fair to the rest of the world. There's a lifetime's worth of incontrovertibly statuesque songs upending the statistical improbability of all being crammed one next to another across the 14 tracks on the original release. I mean, "Mt. Fuji"? Don't even get me started!

I sat and listened to that original hand-painted version for months before I finally worked up the gumption to actually reach out to Kelley and suggest that I put out a CD version of "Antique Glow" on my imprint, Cass Records.

He wrote back, quickly, and said he'd just signed a deal with Jackpine Social Club to put it out on CD, but that he was excited to try and work on something else. He wound up sending me 5-10 more copies of the LP which I handed out amongst people I trusted (Ian Svenonius, Simon Keeler, Jack White...probably some more I'm forgetting) that helped spread the word.

I wound up releasing a 7-inch single with Kelley in 2006 and by that time, I had passed his music along to Sub Pop, who ultimately ended up signing him to a three-album deal. He'd later go on to open one of the earliest Raconteurs tours, let me do a stint playing drums for him, get a crazy licensing deal with Regions Bank, join Echo and the Bunnymen as a touring member and generally making quite remarkable records in the intervening two decades. 

If there's anything that gets me OVER excited about this new reissue is the inclusion of SO MANY BONUS TRACKS. Ho-lee shit. A lot of these I'd heard back in the day as included on his absolutely necessary "Australian Tour EP" and just fell in love with. There really is no song more deserving of inclusion on some breathtakingly cinematic reminiscent soundtrack as "Old Pictures" is (side note: its Kelley's mom's favorite song of his). That along with "Frying Pan" and "Dead John" (inspired by Edward Gorey books) are just so integral to the listening my ears have done. As in....some of my most enjoyable moments of listening I've ever had have been to these songs.

So imagine my extreme happiness in the assembling of this set where Kelley pulls out a half dozen songs from that same time period that I'd never heard...and they are all absolute killers. I mean, "Too Beck" (named so because, well, it's sound too much like Beck) is just brilliant. I am still hopping around losing my mind to it. And "Umbrella" is painfully spectacular...described to me by Kelley as him "trying to sound like CSNY" and keep finding my way back to this song. The plaintive lyrics, not really telling a story per se, but just astutely conveying a feeling. "Don't you make the same mistakes that I made, don't forget to bring your umbrella" is simple at face value, but there's so many other ways to interpret it. "If you're a girl well you might see some mascara run but if you're a field...you will be smiling." 

I have not felt so compelled by a song in an unmeasurably long time. Kelley has this way with me. I am forever a fan and the ability to help spread the gospel here is one the numerous joys I get here at my dream job.